


Dates

by timtom



Series: Moving Maeve [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Boyfriends, First Dates, M/M, match maker garcia, outdoor cinema, spencer might not know how a real relationship works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timtom/pseuds/timtom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer knows the technicalities of a mutual attraction - I like you, you like me, let's kiss, maybe? But Derek knows the fluidity of the context - so he takes Spencer on a date first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dates

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I don't even know what I was trying to say in the summary bear with me I'm tired. Sorry about taking so long for getting this finished, I'm drained. No beta, so all tense and spelling mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

The first time Spencer and Derek properly kiss, Spencer’s shaking and against a wall and pulling Derek against him so Derek doesn’t pull off, although during the whole first five seconds is Derek attempting to, all the while saying things like _kid_ and _what_ against Spencer’s lips. But when he melts into it; lets the kisses press on for longer and lets their lips fall open instinctively, Spencer knows it’s done – he knows he can move on from Maeve, knows that he _can_ and _will_. He also knows exactly what he wants, and he wants _Derek_.

Spencer moans – more to trigger a reaction from Derek than from pleasure, and Derek slides one of his hand into Spencer’s hair, the other tucked between the wall and Spencer’s slender waist. Spencer moves his leg so Derek’s thigh slides between his own and –

“Wait, wait –“ Derek suddenly says and Spencer finds his lips missing Derek’s. Derek’s standing back, but his foot is still planted so his thigh presses against Spencer’s groin. “Spence, what are you doing?”

“What? What is it?” Spencer asks, and the panic feels like a tide rising behind his throat – the rest of the team is just beyond this wall, and they just arrested the serial killer. Any of them can walk in on them right now; in this compromising position. “Is it – do you not want to –“

“No. No! Spencer, no. I –“ Derek says and wipes his hand over his face as he moves his foot back and Spencer stands up straighter. “Of course I do. But – but not here, right now.” Then Derek laughs, and it’s loud enough that Spencer’s eyes dart to the door leading to the room where most of the team is. “Damn kid, you’re really new at this thing, aren’t you?”

“Do you mean homosexuality or kissing?” Spencer asks, and Derek laughs again. It’s a sharp bark of surprise, and as Spencer had anticipated, JJ appears by the door way.

“There you two are, we’re heading out, are you coming?”

Derek’s still got the fascinated grin on his face, but he nods and then looks to Spencer. Spencer’s confused, but he nods too. JJ smiles and they leave the building and the smell of stale blood and disinfectant behind to wash their stress off in the privacy of their own lives. Derek and Spencer share a car because – _statistically it’s safer to- It’s okay Spencer I understand it’s fine, go with Morgan_.

It’s quiet in the car, and Derek had on Barry White playing softly in the background. There are statistics based around Barry White and romantic gestures relaying endlessly in Spencer’s head, but he tries to block it out, tries to concentrate on the lyrics that he can barely hear.

“I’d like to, you know.” Derek says suddenly, and what semblance of a coherent string of lyrics falls out of Spencer’s ears.

“What?” He asks intelligently.

“What you were offering, back in the warehouse. I’d like to.” Derek smiles, and Spencer stares at him for a bit, gaping as Derek keeps his eyes on the road and directs the car around a dark corner.

“Right.” Spencer says, again, intelligently.

“But it has to mean something. You’re not just a one night stand, Spence.” And Derek turns to smile at Spencer. “You mean a lot. To me.”

Spencer decides not to say anything this time – it felt like his IQ would actually drop a few points if he even tries to reply. Derek doesn’t seem to mind though, because he keeps talking.

“A proper date, Spence. Have you had one of _those_ before?” Derek asks gently, but not condescendingly. Spencer thinks, long and hard –

“Once I had my science project partner over to dinner.” He says, and Derek chuckles quietly.

“Did you like her?”

Spencer shrugs – “Is it important?”

“People who go on dates usually have feelings for each other, yes.” Then he adds. “Or at least develop feelings.”

Spencer thinks again, long and hard.

“No, she was just a friend, and plus – I’m pretty sure Leslie Stu is now Leon Stu, as well.”

Derek laughs outright at that – they turn into a dim street lined with small houses. The car passes a park and Derek slows as they near the apartment building.

“Thanks, Morgan.” Spencer says and goes to get out, but before he can leave, Derek calls him.

“Hey Spence –“

“Yeah?”

“– you free this Friday night?”

Spencer can’t help the smile spreading on his face, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, actually.” Derek only smiles back at him, and then nods at him for him to go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Pretty Boy.”

 

 

 

“Why have they called him the _Parent_ _Rapist_?” A policewoman asks, notepad in hand. Hotch clears his throat, and everyone’s thinking the same thing – _the killer’s got a name now, there’s no telling what’ll happen next_.

“We don’t like giving the killers an identity, especially not in the media – it often gives them a purpose, justified cause for their actions.” JJ interjects, and she and Hotch exchange glances. “But it would probably be because the unsub does not discriminate between fathers and mothers.”

“The unsub’s primary targets are single parents with children in boarding schools, and so far the patterns have been white parents between the ages of 30 and 45 with brown hair and a steady income – bankers, accountants, lawyer; good presentable jobs with great security.” Emily says, and there’s the scratching of pens on paper as the police task force take down the notes. There’s a moment of silence until all the eyes are on them again.

“We would advise that single parents have friends stay over or to stay with a family member for the time being – the abductions have all happened in their houses at night.” Spencer offers, and again the police eyes fall back to their note pads.

“And make sure they lock up tight before they go to bed.” Derek says.

“That’s all, thank you.” Hotch closes the meeting and the police all begin to pack up and leave.

It wasn’t an easy case – none of the victims saw the unsub’s face, and were blindfolded throughout the whole attack. The unsub was unusually quiet though – there weren’t any human noises made, and they were considering someone verbally incapacitated. Spencer offered muteness derived from extensive trauma, or maybe a birth defect, but aside from that, they had no leads.

As it turns out, Spencer was right. Andrew Wright was a dyslexic mute who worked as a post delivery boy – he had the free time and the way to watch the parents without raising suspicion by varying the time of his deliveries each day throughout months, slowly working out each parent’s schedules and when they would be the most off guard; when they’d drink wine, come home late, slip into the tub surrounded by candles and not very much protection.

He was raped consistently as a child by his father, who had died a few years ago in a car accident. He was repeatedly beaten when he made a noise, and so grew silent and ultimately lost the ability to speak, or even make noises. Andrew found his biological mother after his father’s death, but she was a strict Christian and deemed him ‘tainted. He was disowned and spent a year homeless on the streets, pending up anger for parents who he saw as ‘unloving’ – sending their children away so they could have time to themselves.

The jet fly back is long – Spencer sleeps fitfully, JJ and Emily play words with friends until one of them (JJ) throws her phone across the length of the plane and turns so she’s tucked into the corner of her seat with a huff. Hotch is doing paper work as per usual and Morgan’s drowsily listening to soft R&B with his eyes half closed. Rossi remains behind due to _personal matters_.

This time, when Spencer follows Morgan to his car, JJ offers him a smile and a subtle thumbs up at her waist, and leaves with her bag – Spencer doesn’t know exactly what she means with the encouragement, but he’s happy at least she isn’t offended; usually when Spencer chooses to skip taking the subway, JJ would give him a ride home. It isn’t too far out of the way for her, but it isn’t for Morgan either. It isn’t a competition, after all. 

As expected, Spencer sleeps during the car ride – he discovers that Barry White is extremely beneficial to aid sleep. He wakes to a gentle shake of his shoulder by a strong warm hand.

“Kid, wake up. You can sleep inside.” Derek’s saying, and Spencer lethargically pulls himself from the glass pane where his face has been leaning against. Derek laughs and pats down his hair, messy from the sleep.

“Right, night.” Spencer drawls as he opens the door and gets out.

“Hey, Pretty Boy.” Derek says, and Spencer turns himself around so he can lean against the open window of the car. “We’re not working tomorrow so I want you dressed and ready at 7, you think you can do that?”

“In the morning?” Spencer asks sleepily, already rubbing his eyes. “Why?”

Derek shakes his head and frowns as if he’s saying _no dummy_ and he laughs a little as he says “No, I want you dressed, seven pm. It’s Friday tomorrow.”

Suddenly Spencer’s so much more awake, and slightly embarrassed. “Oh, um. Yes. Of course, I – um. What do I wear?”

Derek looks Spencer up and down as if he was something delicious and then smirks. “Anything is fine, Spence. Dress for the weather.”

So Spencer does – and he tugs uncomfortably at his tie and readjusts his vest. He was supposed to be comfortable, he dressed to be, anyway, but this was a new shirt and the starch was making his neck itch slightly. Spencer’s apartment was one of those with a buzzer at the building’s outside, so Spencer’s ears were hyperaware and _waiting_. He was slightly anxious and nervous and basically he felt like throwing up, right _now_ and then the nausea and butterflies subside and Spencer takes calming breaths as he readjusts his tie again.

The buzzer scares him, naturally, what with the colony of Monarch Butterflies taking residence inside his gut and fluttering around restlessly like it’s mating season. He hurries to the intercom and his voice sounds slightly unsteady as he says _Morgan_?

“Are you gonna let me in or not, kid?” Derek asks and the words are irritated, but the tone was amused. Spencer swallows as he presses the buzzer.

Spencer lives on the third floor, but they’d gone further to chase suspects – Morgan’s not even slightly out of breath when he gets up there less than two minutes later. Spencer closes his eyes and counts to three before he dares himself to physically open the door. Derek’s wearing something very similar to what he wears to work – white t-shirt, black jeans and a black jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Hey Pretty Boy, you ready?” Derek asks and smiles, and Spencer’s insides feel like a soufflé and it’s rising and _rising_. He smiles and nods and as he grabs his bag and locks his door, and Derek slides a hand smoothly against Spencer’s back low, but not low enough for it to be where Spencer wants it to be.

Later, maybe.

“You look good.” Derek says as they get into his car. “Is that a new shirt?”

Spencer laughs and buckles in, and then plays with the collar. “Yeah, is it that obvious?”

“It’s nice, I like it.” Derek says and Spencer doesn’t know why he wants to smile so bad, so he turns to look out the window because for some reason he didn’t want Derek to see, as if it mattered now.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Spencer’s good at maps, but he’s better at it from an aerial view. He gets somewhat lost in his surroundings – and maybe part of that is because he’s much too aware of Derek next to him, humming along to the female voice on the radio. Spencer does freeze in his seat though, when he recognises the trees giving way to the large screen standing in the open field. There are a multitude of cars parked in front of the screen, but as Derek guids his car around the maze, he finds a spot close to the middle, a little way back.

Derek parks the car and smiles at Spencer. Spencer stares at him. They don’t talk about hobbies much at the Bureau, and only a few people know about his love for drive-in theatres.

“How did you know?” Spencer asks. Derek makes a vague face.

“Mama might’ve dropped some hints to me a while back, before the case.” Derek sounds a little sheepish.  “You like it?”

Spencer can’t help the smile crawling on his face. “Yeah, well, it depends on what they’re showing.”

“Well if we’re going to watch this we’re going to watch it right.” Derek says, smiling, and he gets out of the car. Spencer’s a little lost as to what to do but copies Derek, getting out of the car too, all gangly limbs and bad centre of balance. Derek slides onto the front bonnet smoothly, and crosses his arms and his feet, leaning back onto the windshield and getting comfortable. Spencer hesitates, but as Derek glances at him he climbs onto the bonnet awkwardly and sits next to Derek, moving his messenger bag so it’s not between them. That’s why their legs are pressing together, and their shoulders knocking, and Spencer can feel how warm Derek is through his thin shirt. Yeah, that’s why.

Derek clears his throat as the screen lights up as if on cue and Spencer glances up.  The black and white countdown of old traditional films flickers as adjustments are done so the picture is in focus, and then the screen turns black.

Yellow writing appears, and it’s small and looped, like handwriting. Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he reads the familiar words. Then they slowly fade away as an animated elephant dressed in a marching band uniform appears and puts a whistle to his mouth and blows. The shrill noise rings through the open park, but it’s a familiar sound to Spencer. He chokes and looks to Derek, who’s grinning like a loon and determined not to notice him at all. The animated rows of elephants on the screen are now trumpeting, and the words _babar_ appear.

Spence takes his cue and freaks out.

“How does Garcia know these things? I haven’t seen Babar in ages, it’s the best film – Derek did you know that Babar was also a TV show that aired between 1989 and 2002? And that it was originally a book called Histoire de Babar by Jean de Brunhoff written in 1931? It was children’s book, and it was French, and I read it when I was five, and –“

Derek kisses him mostly to shut him up, because he actually wanted to watch this film. He wanted to watch the movie that can have Spencer babbling at a hundred miles per hour, can have his eyes wide and can make his breath hitch. He wanted to know what makes Spencer tick, basically. He smiles when he leans back, and Spencer looks breathless and ridiculously happy.

“Now watch the movie, Pretty Boy.” Derek says, and Spencer sits happily back on the windshield. And if the hand Derek put in Spencer’s hair to steady him as he kissed him has now slid down across his shoulders, then no one in the drive-in notices.


End file.
